Responsibility
by brassband777
Summary: Weechester/teenchester. Sam doesn't follow Dean's orders when John is away. Dean has to come to terms with having to discipline his brother. Awesome big brother Dean. Caring John. WARNING: contains SPANKING of a minor. Please do not read if this offends!


**Title:** Responsibility

**Author:** brassband777

**Characters:** John, Dean (15), Sam (11)

**Original Prompt**: #18 Sam is spanked for the first time by Dean for running away to the library or the store or any similarly outrageous fact (Ages: Dean 15, Sam 11)

**Summary:** Sam doesn't respond to Dean's authority very well and runs off to the library. The focus is mainly on Dean having to come to terms with disciplining his brother.

**Author's Notes:** This was written for the 2011 Christmas fic exchange over on Live Journal (the full prompt can be read at the end). I'm always terrified when fulfilling prompt fics in case the prompter doesn't like it!

**Warnings:** disciplinary spanking of a child. Disclaimer: Do not own anything to do with Supernatural.

**Two Months Previously:**

John Winchester pulled up outside the dilapidated house and put the Impala in park before climbing out. He was a day early and was looking forward to surprising his boys. On entering the house and finding it empty, John smiled, knowing where he'd likely find his children. He had left strict instructions when he had left on the hunt about the training regime he wanted them to follow while he was away. With this in mind, he made his way through the woods behind the house to the large clearing that made a perfect, natural training ground. Sure enough, as he got closer, John could hear Dean's voice.

"You need your feet a little further apart, Sammy…that's right. Raise the bow a little…not that much, here let me show you…."

John stepped out of the edge of the trees and his heart constricted at the sight_. How he loved those boys!_ Dean was standing behind Sam, his hands on his little brother's wrists, guiding him into position.

"There you go, Sammy." Dean stepped away. "Now keep looking down the shaft as you release it."

Sam fired the arrow and it landed fairly close to the centre of the makeshift target attached to the tree.

"Good job, Tiger. You're progressing so fast, I'm worried you'll be better than me soon." Dean ruffled Sam's floppy hair affectionately, laughing when his little brother ducked away.

Sam was beaming at his big brother's praise. He picked up another arrow to take another shot.

John watched the interaction between the boys_. Dean was so good with Sam!_

_I hope you can see them, Mary _thought John_ You'd be so proud of them! _

Dean at fifteen was tall and already gaining muscle mass. He was proving to be a natural hunter and relished it when John took him hunting. Dean was also very easy on the eye and John knew that already, his son was extremely popular with the ladies. Sam on the other hand at eleven was incredibly small for his age and with his floppy bangs falling over his forehead looked simply adorable. As no-one in John's or Mary's family had been particularly short, John just assumed that at some point Sam would have a growth spurt. Although Sam hadn't taken to hunting like his older brother had, he was beginning to show a real talent for the research side of things.

Instead of making his presence known, John was content to watch them for a while. According to the training timetable he had left, he knew that the bow practice would be followed by fifteen minutes of sparring and then fifteen minutes of running.

"Okay, Sammy, enough with the bow for today, it's time to spar. You can show me your cool moves, dude."

Sam carefully set the bow down by the duffle bag at the side of the clearing and returned the unused arrows to the quiver. John was pleased to see the respect that his youngest was showing the weapon. Neither boys were yet aware of his presence.

"Do we have to, Dean?" whined Sam, "We've trained loads. Can't we just go home?"

"Sorry, Sammy, Dad left strict instructions about what we have to do."

"But Dad's not here, so he won't know if we finish early," reasoned Sam.

John raised his eyebrows at that and waited, curious as to what his eldest would reply.

"Nuh-uh, Sammy, no can do. I promised Dad I'd do this before he left and I'm not going back on my word."

"_You_ might've promised, but I didn't," grumbled Sam petulantly, "You can spar by yourself, I've had enough."

John was just about to step out and give his youngest a firm reminder that training was serious business when Dean spoke up. "Come on, Sammy, if you spar with me, I'll go to the movies with you on Saturday."

Sam paused for a moment, considering the offer. "Deal," he said and took up a fighting stance.

John was left bristling. Dean shouldn't have to bribe his brother to get him to train. John sighed – Sam was growing up. Since just before his eleventh birthday, Sam had begun pushing the boundaries, testing the waters. John knew he'd made a mistake not realising that the kid would also test his boundaries with Dean. And it was more important than ever that Sam listen to his brother, because since Dean had turned fifteen, John had trusted him to hold down the fort for longer periods of time – sometimes for as long as two weeks.

John watched the sparring. He was immensely pleased with the progress that both of them were making. John grinned fondly when Dean allowed Sam to pin him. Being older, taller and stronger, Sam in reality stood no chance of overcoming his brother, but to prevent the youngster from becoming discouraged, Dean made sure to allow him to get the upper hand from time to time, but not so frequently that Sam would get suspicious.

Sam's stubborn nature showed itself once more when the sparring was completed.

"I don't wanna run, Dean, I'm tired."

"Come on, kiddo, it's just this and then we can go home 'n chill. How's pizza for supper sound?"

Sam folded his arms across his chest and pouted. "Pizza sounds great, but I'm still not running."

Dean laughed. "Wimp!" he teased.

"I'm not a wimp!" Sam bristled indignantly.

"Oh, really?" smirked Dean, "Itty bitty baby Sammy is too tired to run."

"I'm not a baby!" Sam actually stamped his foot to prove his point, "I never said I was too tired to run, just that I didn't want to!"

"Whatever, you big baby," Dean rolled his eyes and pretended to turn away, knowing that he had his little brother hook, line and sinker.

"Okay, I'll prove to you I can run!" huffed Sam, taking off at a run around the edge of the clearing. Dean grinned and followed.

_That was clever, Dean!_ mused John, but he was troubled by the fact that his eldest had to cajole and trick his youngest to get him to do as he was told.

As Sam rounded the corner, he spotted the familiar figure watching from the tree-line.

"Dad!" The small boy sprinted towards his father, flinging himself into the strong waiting arms. "You're early!"

John hugged the eleven-year-old tightly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "It's good to see you too, Sammy," he chuckled, "Yeah, we tracked the banshee quicker than we thought we would."

He released Sam and turned to Dean, enveloping the waiting teen in a hug. Being a 'coo'l teenager, Dean put up the pretence of trying to pull away, but John didn't let go, knowing that his eldest secretly thrived on the physical contact.

"Give your old man a hug, Deano."

Dean made a show of grumbling, which was belied by the wide grin lighting up his handsome young features, as he returned the hug.

"Okay, Boys, looks like you'd just started your running. Now hop to it!"

The two 'yes, sirs' came in unison and they quickly resumed their running.

While his children ran, John pondered the problem. Sam behaved for John because there were unpleasant consequences if he didn't. The boy didn't however fear any consequences from his older brother, because except for the threat to tell John about any misdemeanours when he got home, there weren't any. And even if Dean did threaten to tell on him, as the consequence wasn't immediate, Sam had time to talk his brother out of it.

When the boys had finished their allocated fifteen minutes of running, they set about repacking everything securely into the duffle bag.

John sighed, hating what he was about to do, but deeming it necessary. Sam's backside was in perfect position as the boy was bent over, fastening the zipper on the bag. John raised his hand and swatted Sam. Hard.

The child yelped and bolted upright, both hands clutching his suddenly abused buttocks. John simply batted Sam's hands gently out of the way and applied a second stinging swat.

"Owww!" Sam turned hurt eyes on his father, "What did I do?" Realising that thankfully no more swats were forthcoming, he reached back and tried to rub out the fierce sting.

John crossed his arms over his chest and contemplated his youngest sternly. "Think, Sammy."

Sam wracked his brains. He couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong. Dean too was puzzled – as far as he could tell, his brother had only been putting the weapons and stuff away, he certainly hadn't done anything to his knowledge that warranted getting swatted.

"Who's in charge when I'm not here?" prompted John.

"Dean," replied Sam immediately, unable to see where this was going.

"That's right, and that means you listen to him."

"But I did listen to him!" Sam defended himself, "I did everything he told me."

John raised his eyebrows. "Straight away?"

_Oh._

Sam dropped his gaze and scuffed his sneaker in the dirt.

"Now Sam, if you don't listen to Dean in future, there _will_ be consequences. He can discipline you, he has my permission.

Sam's head jerked up to meet his father's stern gaze. "What?" he spluttered.

This was quickly echoed by Dean's shocked "Whoa!"

John turned to his eldest. "I'll discuss it properly with you later, Dean, but suffice to say, if Sammy misbehaves on your watch, I want _you_ to deal with it. For minor offences, you can put him to bed early or give him corner time. For moderate offences, you can withdraw privileges or ground him….and for serious offences you can spank him."

Dean just stared, dumbfounded, unable to accept what his father had said. _His Dad couldn't be serious!_

Sam however found his voice. "No! You can't do that!"

"Yes I can, Sam, I'm the dad and I get to make the rules."

"But Dean can't! He…I mean…no…it's… he just can't discipline me!... And what if _he_ misbehaves, huh? How is that fair?"

"I will make it perfectly fair, Sammy. If Dean doles out any punishment unfairly, you tell me and I'll deal with him. And if your brother doesn't follow the rules himself, then just let me know when I get home."

"But…" Sam trailed off. _It didn't matter what Dad said, because Dean wouldn't discipline him anyway!_

That evening, after Sam was asleep in bed, John broached the subject again.

"Dean, I was serious about giving you permission to discipline Sammy, you know."

Dean shook his head. "I couldn't do that, Dad."

"Do you love your brother?"

Dean couldn't see what that question had to do with the subject at hand, but answered anyway, "Yeah, of course, more than anything."

"Then you want what's best for him?"

Dean nodded without hesitation.

"You keep telling me that Sam's your responsibility. Do you still hold to that?" John pressed.

Dean nodded vehemently. "Yeah I'll do anything for him."

"Then you'll discipline him, Dean, not because he wants it, but because he _needs_ it."

Dean shook his head in denial and John continued. "When you're responsible for someone, Son, it means that you do what's best for them, even if it's not something you want to do. You know Sam's been testing me lately?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah.' He'd witnessed his brother's attempted defiance over the last few months and also his father's immediate crackdown on it.

"Well, he's testing you too and he's got to learn to do as you tell him. He can't think he can do what he wants and get away with it. Imagine if you landed in a dangerous situation by accident or on a hunt when he's older and he doesn't follow orders immediately. What could happen?"

Dean swallowed. He couldn't bear thinking about anything bad happening to his little brother. "Sammy could get hurt or even killed," he murmured.

John placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder. "That's right, Ace. And that's why you need to step up to the mark and face this aspect of your responsibility to your brother."

Dean thought about it for a moment, before looking up and meeting his father's loving gaze resolutely. "Okay, Dad, if that's what it takes to keep him safe."

"Good, boy," replied John, leaning over and kissing Dean's forehead, "Now I'll just give you some pointers on spanking, because unfortunately, I'm sure your brother will require one in the not too distant future."

Dean really hoped his father was wrong on that score! The prospect of putting his brother over his knee was simply inconceivable.

"You're gonna give me a lesson on spanking technique? This is just too weird!"

John chuckled. "Well I want to make sure you do it right, the right number of swats and things like that."

"You mean, you're worried I'll harm him by spanking too hard?" asked Dean solemnly.

"Not at all, Dean, I know you'd never hurt your brother. I'm afraid you're much more likely to not spank him hard enough. I'm sure being on the receiving end, that you've realised that the intensity and duration of my spankings vary according to the deed?"

Dean nodded sheepishly, blushing at the thought of being spanked. "How am I supposed to figure out how many to give him then?"

"I'm gonna give you a simple formula to follow, until you get more confident with spanking…." _Dean couldn't see himself ever getting confident with spanking_ "…Now I'm gonna assume that you'll only spank for serious offences, so basically, you need to make sure that you don't miss any bits and that you thoroughly spank the whole area. It's a good idea to pay extra attention to the sit-spots as it's those that will give an uncomfortable reminder to behave when he sits down later on. Do you know where the sit-spots are?"

Dean nodded, too embarrassed to meet his father's eyes. _So that was why Dad always gave extra spanks there!_

John hid a grin at Dean's bright pink cheeks and continued, "Whether you spank his thighs or not is up to you. Oh, and I forgot to say, his pants need to come down…."

Dean interrupted, "I'm not spanking him on the bare, Dad!"

"I wouldn't ask that of you, Dean, I know that what I am asking is hard enough," soothed John, knowing how difficult this conversation was for his eldest, "you can leave his underwear up, but his pants need to come down. Firstly because they offer a layer of protection and secondly it reinforces your authority, because you have control. Then you simply spank him until he cries."

"I have to make Sammy cry?" Dean's voice was almost a whisper_. It was his job to soothe Sam's tears, not cause them!_

"Yes, Dean, I'm afraid so. You would only be spanking for a serious offence and trust me, Sammy will only get what he deserves. But, you can't stop straight away either, Son. Once he's crying, I want you to give him eleven more swats, one for each year of his life. Hopefully if you spank him properly once, it'll act as a deterrent and you won't have to do it again for a very long time. You got all that, Ace?"

"I think so," muttered Dean, "spank everywhere, especially the sit-spots, until he cries, then give eleven more."

"I'll make a pro spanker of you yet," teased John, trying to lighten the sombre mood.

**Present Day:**

Dean stood outside the gates of the Elementary School and glanced impatiently at his watch. Sam was late. The whole school seemed to have emptied of pupils and still there was no sign of his puppy-dog eyed little brother. After another five minutes, Dean impatiently made his way to Sam's classroom. Sam's teacher was sitting at her desk marking.

"Excuse me, Mrs Winters, have you seen my brother, Sam?" he asked politely.

Mrs Winters recognised Dean, as he picked Sam up from school most days.

"He left with his classmates as soon as the bell rang. Is something wrong, Dear?"

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm sure everything's alright. We must have just missed each other.

Dean set off at a brisk walk back to their house. Sam hadn't been expecting Dean to pick him up today, so he wouldn't have looked out for his big brother. Dean was supposed to have attended an optional mechanics class after school, but the teacher had called in ill and so Dean had finished at the usual time.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean unlocked the front door and stepped into the house.

"Hey, Sammy, I'm home."

Silence greeted him and a knot of worry curled in the pit of his stomach.

"Sammy?" his voice was louder this time, but there was still no response. A quick search of the small house quickly informed Dean that his sibling was presently unaccounted for. Dean knew that if his brother had come straight home, he would be here.

_What if something's happened to him?_ The small voice niggled at the back of his mind. Dean pushed it away and forced himself to remain calm_. It was early still_, he reasoned _and maybe Sammy had a genuine reason for being late, like a friend getting ill and needing to be walked home?_ If Sam hadn't returned in a couple of hours, he'd notify his Dad and go and look for him.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Sam walked through the front door whistling, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Dean.

"Uh, hey, Dean…errr….what're you doing here? Didn't you have that….umm….mechanics thing?"

Sam's sheepish expression, as well as his rambling alerted Dean immediately to the fact that his little brother obviously didn't have a valid excuse for being late.

"It was cancelled. Where have you been?" Although Dean's relief that Sam was safe was tangible, he was also angry. "I was worried!"

"Sorry," mumbled Sam looking at his feet, "You didn't need to worry though. It's just that Jason's got a new puppy and he invited everyone over to his house to play with it and well…..you weren't supposed to be here." Sam risked a glance up through his bangs at his brother's angry expression. He honestly hadn't meant for Dean to worry.

"In other words, I wasn't supposed to know."

"Exactly," replied Sam, offering a small grin, "No harm done, hey?"

Dean didn't grin back. "So let me get this straight, Sam, you broke the rule of always going straight home from school unless given express permission otherwise _and_ you broke the rule of never going somewhere without telling someone where you're going and when you'll be back?"

"Come on, Dean, it's not that big a deal!"

"And what if something had happened to you on your way to or from your friend's place? I wouldn't have known where you were."

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation. "And what exactly could happen, huh? It's daylight and there are lots of people around. You really are a jerk, Dean."

Dean didn't reply for a moment as he considered what to do. He knew without a doubt that his Dad would spank Sam for breaking those particular rules, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Since his dad had given him permission to discipline Sam a few months earlier, Dean had never yet needed to apply any sanctions.

"Okay, Sammy, you're grounded until the end of the weekend."

"What?" Sam spluttered, his eyes going wide in disbelief. "You can't!"

"Yeah, I can," replied Dean quietly, meeting his brother's outraged gaze steadily "you knew the rules, but broke 'em anyway."

"But, it's the special sessions at the library tonight and tomorrow with the guest authors and you said you'd take me." Sam turned on his pleading puppy-dog expression full-force.

Dean for once withstood the deadly expression and remained firm. "You should have thought of that before, Sammy. You're grounded and that's final. Oh, and your conditions of grounding…..no leaving the house, no games and no reading."

"No reading? You're supposed to ban me from TV, not reading! Reading's educational!"

"Maybe," Dean conceded, "but I happen to know that you like reading a hell of a lot more than you like TV and this is a punishment."

"You can't do this! I hate you!" Sam turned on his heel and fled to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Dean ran a tired hand through his hair. He knew how disappointed the kid would be at missing out on the library sessions, but their Dad was right – Sammy needed to learn.

An hour and a half later, Dean opened the bedroom door after knocking gently to tell Sam that supper was ready. _He really hoped that Sam had calmed down in the meanwhile._ On entering their shared bedroom, Dean found it empty and the bedroom window wide open. His brother had flown the nest.

"Sam?" Dean called urgently through the window, quickly surveying the area with a hunter's eye. As he suspected, there was no sign of the child, he was obviously long gone.

Dean experienced a moment of utter panic. _What should he do now?_ It was dark out and had been for a while and whereas Sam's argument that it was safe walking the streets during daylight did hold merit, the same could not be said after nightfall. Dean knew that it wasn't only supernatural entities that were a threat then, there were also more than enough human fiends to go around.

Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to think logically. _Where might the kid go?_ A possible answer came almost instantaneously: _the library!_ Dean set of immediately, praying that his baby brother was unharmed.

Sam sat in the library with some of his friends. There was a carousel of activities taking place and he and his friends were currently attempting to build the magical castle out of Lego according to the description in the book. Sam should have been having the time of his life, only he wasn't. For a start off, Dean was originally supposed to be here too, keeping him company. Then there was the fact that he felt incredibly guilty, as he knew that Dean would worry when he found him missing. Yet on the other hand, he was also incredibly angry at Dean and was determined to show his bossy big brother that he couldn't tell him what to do.

Sam was startled out of his musings when he felt a vice-like grip ensnare his upper arm. He looked up, right into Dean's blazing, intense glare.

"We're going home, Sam. Right now!" he gritted out.

Sam had never seen Dean look so angry and he swallowed nervously. If his friends hadn't all been watching curiously, Sam would most definitely have capitulated. As it was, he straightened his back and met his brother's eyes defiantly.

"You can't tell me what to do!" he hissed.

Dean's voice was dangerously quiet. "You have a choice, Sam, either you come with me willingly or I carry you."

Sam gulped as he looked up at his brother. Dean's eyes were glittering dangerously and Sam had no doubts whatsoever that he would carry out his threat.

"I'm coming," murmured Sam, crimson with embarrassment. He wouldn't look at his friends as he picked up his jacket and trailed obediently after his irate big brother.

Once outside, Dean rounded on him. "Have you lost your mind, Sam? You know you're not allowed out after dark on your own! And you broke your grounding!"

"Well, you humiliated me in front of my friends," huffed Sam, his petulance evident in his tone.

"You know what?" Dean took a deep, calming breath and shoved his hands in his pockets, "When we get home, I'm gonna do what I should have done in the first place."

"What's that?" asked Sam with trepidation, not liking Dean's tone.

"Give you a darn good spanking!"

"What? No Dean….you're not serious? I mean…..you can't really…." Sam trailed off, worried by the determined expression on his brother's face.

"Oh, I'm deadly serious! And it's not up for discussion. One naughty little boy is gonna get his butt blistered good and proper. Oh, and while I'm at it, the rest of your grounding still stands too."

Sam looked at Dean in disbelief. _His brother must just be saying this to try and scare him into behaving. He wouldn't really, surely?_

When they reached the house, Sam followed Dean into the living room after his brother had locked the door behind them. He was convinced that Dean was just gonna yell at him, but Sam could handle that. However, when Dean did speak, it was in a quiet voice, but with a note of authority.

"Okay, Sam, you know the drill…jeans down."

Sam mutely shook his head – not in refusal to his brother's request, but in denial of the whole situation. _This couldn't be happening! There was no way Dean would spank him!_

Dean contemplated his little brother for a moment, but when the boy didn't comply, he simply sighed before reaching out and deftly unbuttoning and unzipping Sam's jeans.

Dean's fumbling fingers registered in Sam's shocked mind. The reality of what was about to happen came crashing down on him and he suddenly remembered how to move.

Dean's reflexes were too quick however and he caught Sam's wrist firmly in one hand, while yanking his jeans down over his hips with the other.

Sam immediately tried to pull away and back up, but was impeded by the denim that was now pooled around his ankles.

"No, Dean, you can't!" the sudden desperation was clear in Sam's voice, as he stumbled over his clothing in his attempt to escape.

"Yeah, I can, Sammy. You know Dad gave me permission." Dean managed to catch his brother before he tripped over and seated himself on the edge of the sofa. A firm tug on the slender wrist toppled the eleven-year-old over his lap, his small backside perfectly presented.

"But that's not fair!" spluttered Sam, feeling Dean's arm slide around his waist holding him in place.

Dean actually totally agreed with Sam that it wasn't fair_. It wasn't his place to discipline his little brother!_ _That was a parent's job!_ In a fair world, one where mother-murdering demons didn't exist, he would be free to just be the annoying older brother, he wouldn't be responsible for his brother's well-being, but as his dad had said on numerous occasions_: life __**isn't**__ fair, so live with it!_

Sam actively tried to push himself off his brother's lap, but Dean easily held him down. His sneakers scuffed on the worn carpet as he tried to get a good enough grip to try standing up - to no avail. He then tried using his own hands to prise his brother's iron arm from around his waist, but was unable to move the limb even a single inch. Sam inwardly cursed the fact that his big brother worked out so much.

"Get off me, Dean!" he yelled, "Let go, you jerk!"

Dean didn't reply, he just kept his hold firm and unyielding.

In frustration, Sam then tried flinging his whole body weight this way and that, flailing his limbs wildly in a vain attempt to dislodge Dean's grip.

"This is gonna happen, Sammy, so you might as well settle down."

Sam's struggles continued. "I'm not gonna just let you spank me, Dean!"

"Even though you deserve it?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam paused for a moment and then resumed his futile struggling. He couldn't answer that without incriminating himself. But whether he deserved it or not, Sam couldn't face the idea of it being _Dean_ dishing out the spanking.

Dean just waited, keeping his grip firm around his brother's slim waist and keeping his feet tucked safely to one side, so that Sam's flailing legs wouldn't be able to make contact and kick him. Dean knew he could easily trap Sam's legs with his own, but he was determined not to inflict that helpless, vulnerable position onto his already agitated younger brother. So Dean waited. Sam was incredibly stubborn, but he knew that the youngster would have to give up in the end.

After a few more minutes, Sam was getting tired and he was no closer to escaping. Eventually, he went limp across his brother's knees, panting slightly from the exertion.

"Please, Dean….."

Dean swallowed hard – Sam's pleading tone was much harder to ignore than his angry, indignant outbursts.

"I'm sorry, Sammy, I don't want to do this."

"Then don't," implored Sam, glancing up at Dean over his shoulder, his patented puppy-dog expression firmly in place.

"I have no choice, Sam."

"What do you mean you have no choice, Dean? Course you do. You can choose not to do this. Please…"

Dean stared down for a moment into his brother's warm, expressive hazel eyes. The strength of his feelings towards his kid brother overwhelmed him for a moment and he blinked fiercely to disperse the sudden rush of moisture to his eyes_. Sam was and always would be his responsibility!_ Dean gritted his teeth and pulled together all of his resolve. _And that was why this was necessary!_ Their Dad was right, if Sam didn't respect Dean's authority and follow his orders immediately and without question like he did John's, then the kid could get himself seriously hurt, or worse.

With this in mind, Dean raised his hand and tentatively brought it down right in the centre of his brother's buttocks. Sam automatically tensed at the connection, but then realised a moment later that it hadn't hurt at all_. If Dean was going to spank like that all the time, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad?_

Dean shook his head at himself. The fact that the swat hadn't made any sound at all spoke volumes. _Get a grip, Winchester_, he thought to himself_, this is for Sam's own good._ He raised his hand again and this time, brought it down sharply and with considerable speed. Sam's involuntary yelp and the sound of the slap in the quiet apartment told Dean that this time, he had been painfully effective.

"No, Dean, come on, man," pleaded Sam. _This couldn't be happening!_

Dean ignored him and raised his hand again, continuing to spank at a slow tempo. Sam yelped or owwed as each one landed. After swat number five, Sam also began to squirm across his older brother's knees and Dean automatically tightened his grip around the boy's waist. He was used to watching his little brother squirm and wriggle when receiving a spanking. He had always thought previously that Sam was trying to escape and Dean had constantly wondered why his father put up with such insubordination, but having experienced a genuine struggle to escape the dreaded face-down-over-the-knees position earlier, Dean could now tell the difference – this was no escape attempt, it was simply an instinctive reaction of Sam's body to try and evade the pain. Dean doubted that his little brother even realised he was doing it.

"You're _hurting_ me, Dean," whined Sam.

For a second, Dean faltered. _It's my job to protect Sam, not hurt him!_ But then the conversation with his father filtered through his mind and strengthened his resolve. No matter how much he detested it, Dean recognised the truth that discipline was an unwelcome, but necessary aspect of taking responsibility for someone else. He just wanted to get this over with!

"I know it hurts, Sam," replied Dean quietly, continuing swatting. Suddenly, he realised that he'd been spanking the same spot - the centre of Sam's buttocks – and quickly adjusted by spanking left to right and then top to bottom, covering every inch, before repeating the process.

Sam couldn't believe how much Dean's hand hurt! The stinging burn was steadily increasing as layer upon layer of swats was applied. _Why on earth had he ever thought it a good idea to disobey Dean? How could he have been so stupid as to believe Dean wouldn't go through with this?_

Sam jerked reflexively as Dean applied a sharp swat to the top of his right thigh, followed immediately by one to the left.

Dean felt sick, as he saw his handprint blossom red on his baby brother's milk-white skin. Sam's underwear had protected Dean from the distress of having to see the physical result of the chastisement. Now, the reality of the situation hit him full force _– he was spanking his Sammy!_ – and he felt tears prick behind his eyes, before forcefully blinking them away. Biting the inside of his cheek hard, Dean applied three more stinging slaps to each thigh before returning his swats to the crest of Sam's buttocks.

"**Oww**…please…..Dean…I'm sorry….**Owww**….I promise I'll do **Oww **as you tell me next time….**Owww**….and I'll accept **Oww** any punishments you give me….**Owww**….I won't break any more rules…**Oww.**"

Dean desperately wanted to stop. _Sam recognised what he'd done wrong and had promised not to do it again, so surely that was enough?_ His father's words again echoed through his mind – for the spanking to be effective, to act as a future deterrent and to match the crime, it was necessary to make Sammy cry.

Dean gritted his teeth. He couldn't bear this for much longer. Needing to finish this before he completely lost his resolve, Dean upped the tempo of his swats. Sam was now pleading continuously for Dean to stop, but Dean tuned it out, forcing himself to simply concentrate on the moment and the action of lifting his hand and bringing it sharply down.

At the increased onslaught, Dean's heart nearly broke as he felt Sam's small hand circling his ankle and holding on tightly_. Dammit, Sammy, cry!_ Dean couldn't believe that he was actually willing his baby brother to cry. _It was his job to comfort Sam, not cause him pain and upset him!_

In a desperate attempt to push his little brother over the edge, Dean turned his attention to Sam's sit-spots, which had already been thoroughly swatted when Dean was traversing from the top to the bottom of his brother's buttocks. Now however, he increased the force slightly as he landed a series of sharp swats solely to the sensitive area. He was rewarded a minute later by a hitching breath that heralded the fact that Sam had finally broken.

"Nearly done, Sammy." Whether he said it to reassure his brother or himself, Dean wasn't sure.

_Only 11 to go! _Dean again felt tears filling his eyes. _Sammy was crying because of him!_ He quickly applied six swats to the crest of Sam's bottom, three to each butt-cheek. By this point, Sam's quiet sniffling had deteriorated to sobbing and his legs were kicking involuntarily as each swat landed. Dean felt a solitary tear escape and trickle down his cheek as he applied the last five slaps to his brother's sit-spots.

Dean took a deep, shaky breath, fighting to regain control of his emotions and quickly used the back of the hand he had been spanking with to wipe his eyes. He then released Sam, fully expecting the boy to scramble to his feet and get as far away from him as possible. Dean had no doubt that Sam must hate him right now.

Sam however did not move – he lay limp across his brother's knees, the force of his sobs shaking his small frame.

"Sammy?" questioned Dean hesitantly. Sam didn't respond, but Dean wasn't sure that Sam had heard him over the noise of his crying. He desperately wanted to comfort the child, but how could he, considering that he was entirely responsible for the state that his brother was in?

Dean reached out and lifted Sam to his feet. _Maybe he hadn't realised it was over and that he was now free?_ Dean waited for the boy to pull up his jeans and flee the room, but instead suddenly found himself with a lapful of Sammy. His arms automatically slid around the slender shoulders as Sam buried his face in Dean's Metallica t-shirt.

Sam whimpered as his thoroughly spanked rear settled on Dean's thighs, his arms sliding around his big brother and hugging tight. Dean knew that their father would shift their position when sitting on his knee post-spanking to relieve some of the pressure, but he didn't know exactly what his father did, so he settled for keeping his legs really still to try and limit the discomfort for Sam.

Sam felt totally miserable – not just from the physical pain, which was considerable, but from the feeling that he had really let his brother down. Dean did nothing but look after him, often forgoing his own pleasures to make Sam happy and he knew he had taken that completely for granted.

"I'm really soh-horry, D-dean." Sam was struggling to talk with the force of his sobs.

"Hush. Sammy. It's all right, you're okay now." Dean unconsciously repeated the soothing words that their dad often used after a spanking. Even as he said it, he mentally snorted at the untruth of it – _of course Sam wasn't okay! His backside must feel as if he'd been sat in a furnace! _But Dean always felt better and reassured when his Dad said that to him, so maybe Sammy would too?

"Pl-please don't h-hate me, Dean, I'm s-sorry."

"_Hate you?_ Sammy, of course I don't hate you!"

Dean pushed Sam away from him, keeping one arm locked securely around his back and tilted the boy's head up with a finger under his chin so that he could look at him.

"But I was horrible to you, Dean," sniffed Sam, searching his brother's intense green gaze for absolution.

Dean gently thumbed Sam's tears away, even though they were replaced only seconds later by new ones.

"Now you listen to me Samuel Winchester," Dean said gently, but resolutely, "I could never hate you! No matter what you do, you'll always be my baby brother and I love you! I actually thought _you _would hate _me_, because I spanked you, but I only did it because I care about what happens to you and what kind of person you'll grow up to be. Understand?"

Sam nodded, his dimples making an appearance through his tears as he smiled up at his big brother.

"I love you too, Dean." Sam tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on Dean's cheek. "Even if you do spank really really hard."

Dean pulled Sam back snug against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him once more, before dropping a kiss on the tousled chestnut hair.

"Kiddo, if you tell anyone I said the _**'L'**_ word, I'll put you up for adoption," he teased.

Sam's answering sniffling giggle was the most welcome sound in the universe to Dean.

THE END

**Original Prompt (number 18)**: #18 Sam is spanked for the first time by Dean for running away to the library or the store or any similarly outrageous fact (Ages: Dean 15, Sam 11)


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